Setting Fire To The City
by CoffeeQueenDemigod
Summary: Flames. Everywhere you go, the land is scorched and torn apart. No where is safe. You just never know where the fire will end. - SYOT CLOSED.
1. Prologue

Chell Twain tapped her pen against the table, looking through her notes. This was Chell's very first year. There had only been two Game Makers before her. Chell was unique. For one, Chell was the very first female Head Game Maker. Chell was also a lot less flamboyant. She was different. She was dark. She wasn't full of energy like the first Head Game Maker or talkative like the one after him. She was cold, dark, and a twist on this years Hunger Games.

It was the Fifth Hunger Games. Their Five Year anniversary, none the less. Chell was expected to give them something huge. Something never before seen. And Chell expected to give them exactly that.

Chell kept looking through her notes. She was missing something. Sure, her Arena was very unique. It was a large clearing that was surrounded by forest Areas and safe houses, twelve to be exact, but she just knew that Chell could add something to make this even better. The Mutations? Ten feet tall bears. Was that enough? No, not in the slightest, and Chell knew it. She needed something that would blow there minds. Something never seen before. Something amazing.

It was getting dark out. Chell had been having problems with electricity all day. She groaned. Sure, she had a week to get the first plans of her Arena in, but she wanted to get it done as soon as possible. She was depending on the sunlight, but when she looked at the clock, she knew that she was quickly running out of it. Chell quickly lit a candle with her matches and set it on her desk, but just as she began to let go, her pointer finger was accidentally caught in the fire. She felt a small burn, and pulled her finger away. She put it in her mouth and gasped, in alarm and pain.

Than an idea sparked, watching the small flame dance on the candle. The fire and her eyes were parallel. Chell knew the twist. She knew exactly what she was going to do.

Chell took her finger out of her mouth, wrapped a bandaid around the wound, and began to write. The Arena would be on fire! The fire would move from place to place every few hours, but all the time, there would be a fire somewhere.

She realized, that even without the burning parts of the Arena, the Tributes would end up seeing fire. The Force Field may have kept the Tributes inside, but they could still see what was going on outside of the Arena. The fires burning the houses...it excited Chell. She was ready, she was willing, and she had an Arena. Fire. Fire was their worst enemy.

Chell definitely had the most exciting Arena, compared to the other men before her.

* * *

**AN. Here is my new SYOT! I just have to finish up my current SYOT, but in the meantime, I will be accepting Tributes. The Form should be on my profile by tonight. I will not make any decisions until August First, but I will take every Tribute into consideration. I have Twenty Three spots opened. Please Submit a Tribute! I will be accepting Tributes until the end of August. I need Twenty Three more Tributes until then, and yes, this also includes MALES. You can submit up to three, but I will only accept one of them, or two if I really like them. Please submit, and if you submit more than one, I am sure that at least one of them will make it into my Arena! Thank you all, and by the next Chapter, I hope to have all my Tributes!**

**Coffee.**


	2. Prologue Part Two

"Fire? That is your Arena, Ms. Twain?" President Mabyl asked, leaning against his seat, an eyebrow raised. Chell found her heart beginning to beat against her chest, her face going bright red. Beads of sweat rolled down her neck, and Chell felt her neon orange wig beginning to come loose from what could only be from sweat. Chell squirmed under the look the older man gave her. Her eyes darted away from his gaze, though she knew his eyes were following her closely.

Chell pushed her wig up, pulling a strand of fake orange hair behind her polished ears, her eyes looking out the window to a few floors down, following a man with a tray, trying to make it look like she actually had interest in what he was doing. Chell straightened her back, turning back to the little man, putting a confident face on, even though inside she felt like she was being pinched. Chell nodded her head. It felt like the man had been watching her for about ten minutes, when really it had been more like fifteen seconds.

"Yes, sir," She said, with a prim nod of the head. President Mabyl's left eyebrow raised even farther, down deep within the depths of his thin, pale grey hair, raised so high that Chell couldn't even see it. Chell suddenly became very nervous, feeling as though someone on the outside had raised the temperature several degrees. The short little man began scribbling something on his pad, as if unimpressed by what, at the time, Chell thought was a stroke of brilliance.

"So..." President Mabyl said, leaning back again, putting his hands on his desk, accidentally breathing in her face. Chell tried not to cough. The old man's breath smelled like his teeth hadn't been cleaned in the last fifty years, along with the slight hint of coffee and dark chocolate. It was hard to keep looking confident while on the inside she was completely disgusted. She felt her newly primed eyes twitch. She saw the President's lips turn into a small smile, as if he had done it on purpose, just to make the already anxious girl even more uncomfortable.

"Ms. Twain, if you expect this Arena to be fit enough for our Fifth Anniversary, you need to come up with something more clever than a burning Arena," he said. He stood up. Even standing, President Mabyl was barely taller than Chell, even with her wig on, which made her about two inches taller. He didn't tower over her in the slightest, which was probably why he had the tallest building in the whole Capital, with his office having the penthouse view. He picked up a handkerchief, cleaning the small ceramic figurines on his desk very carefully. He had a very weak chin, with beads of sweat always inching their way down his forehead. He was rather thin, with receding grey hair that he brushed in front of his face, parted in the middle. He had wrinkled, pale skin, white as snow, and his grey hair was darker than any other part of him, always wearing an amazingly tight powder blue suit. The man repelled Chell in the worst possible way.

Chell was a decent young woman, with naturally curly chocolate brown hair that she always hid behind very bright, neon, curly wigs. Though she had very nice features beneath a very large amount of makeup that she carefully applied every day, she still looked like a very normal Capital Citizen, which wasn't always a good thing, if you didn't come from the Capital, that is. Chell had naturally tanner skin, that was hidden behind a lot of pale makeup and body spray, trying to make it look like she had very pale skin. The only thing that looked natural on Chell's body were her green eyes, that had flecks of gold in them. Despite looking extremely fake, Chell was still more pleasant to look at than some of the citizens. Really, Chell's look actually looked calm and natural compared to some of the people living in the Capital.

The little man continued to gently rub the ceramic statuettes with a small handkerchief, even though it looked like he did that every hour. They really didn't need it. They were spotless, not even a hint of dust on them. They sparkled as if they had been bought brand new, just a day or so before.

"May I call you Chell? Well, Chell, these last few years have been just the hardest for me, as you know. Losing my wife to cancer...and these Games mean the world to me. You know that every year we want to have our own original take on the Arenas. Make them exciting, make them worth watching. I make these Games in honor of her, and if it doesn't suit her or if they aren't as exciting as the Games prior to this one, how do you think that would make her feel? If she were still living here, today?"

"I-" Chell said, preparing to defend herself. President Mabyl stared at her with an intense amount of passive aggression, making Chell squirm again. She looked down at her hands again. "I don't know, sir."

"You see, Chell, my dear," He said, continuing to carefully polish his already polished models, which Chell doubted he actually needed to do. "I hired you for your enthusiasm, your experience, and your imagination. Now, I need you to show me just a little more of that in the execution. I don't suppose you are going to let me down, are you, Ms. Twain?"

Chell took in a deep breath, making the mistake of looking up for a moment. The intense look was still on his face, and it almost gave Chell whiplash to pull her head back down. "No, sir."

"Excellent," President Mabyl said, coldly. The little man sat back down on his desk, leaning forward, his hands out in front of him again. "Now, give us a few ideas. Let me hear some!"

Chell's fists clenched, not having expected him to make her think about them on the spot. She'd thought she may have some time back home to really think about this sort of thing.

"Why don't we start with the mutations? I mean, large brown bears really aren't that intimidating. These savages probably live with them back home. What might be scary to you or me, is nothing but a mouse to them," President Mabyl said.

"Yes, right..." Chell said, with a sigh. The mutations were one of her favorite things. One of her biggest fears were being eaten by a bear, having wandered into the forest as a six year old with out parental guidance, and being chased by a large black bear. She had survived, but sustained a large scar on her leg where the bear scratched it. It made Chell sick just to think about it. "Well, if the theme is fire, why don't we make everything fire? The bears can stay...but...why don't we have them _breath_ fire?"

Another eyebrow raised, and Chell found her heart sink deep into her chest. But this time, it wasn't out of displeasure, it was out of surprise. Did he think that was a _good_ idea?

"Well, Ms. Twain, from here, it seems off to a good start. Please, tell me more."

A large smile appeared on the anxious girl's face, with a sudden boost of confidence. Now, Chell was able to continue. And she did.

* * *

**AN. So, unfortunately, today was the Deadline. I expected that this would happen, so today I wrote this short, sloppy chapter. I don't have enough Tributes left. I have Nine Spots open. Two girls, and Seven boys. All my Career Spots are taken, I currently am in need of Outer District Males, and two outer District Females. But I need a lot of males. Please, please send in a Tribute! I really want to write this story! The Deadline is now a week from Today, on the First of September. So, please send in a Tribute! Information is on my profile. The official names and personalities will be on my blog, and I will also write a small paragraph each in the beginning of the new Chapter. I will write two Reaping Chapters, which may take me about a Month, and then everything will be up from there! Anyway, please send in a Tribute. I really, really need some!**

**Questions.**

**What did you think of my Characters?:**

**How was my writing?:**

**How can I improve?:**

**Thanks a bunch!**

**Coffee.**


	3. First Impressions

**AN. And so...without further ado, I give you the Tributes! I am so excited. I just got them all last night! So, is anyone else excited? I am.**

* * *

District One:

_Brienne Targuin: _Brienne is a pretty, kind girl, who uses her body to her advantage. Although married, that doesn't stop Brienne from having a little fun here and there. Being a rich girl, Brienne has always gotten what she wants, no matter what the price.

_Breden Targuin:_ Breden is one of those few who likes pain, who smiles at insults, and enjoys conflict, making him the least appealing husband. He can be

District Two:

_Danea Hallas:_ Post-tramatic stress has taken over the young lady's life, not that she'd ever let anyone see that. Working every day to get someone back, Danea will do _anything_.

_Lachlan Cleave: _Though seems like a great jock and kind boy on the outside, feels hollow on the inside from years of an awful life.

District Three:

_Dakota Mathis:_ Though stoic and loyal, Dakota's judgement can be foggy. Pleasant and dedicated, Dakota definitely is up to bat with the rest.

_John Blackmore: _Fairly sarcastic and seems quite cold-hearted, John is actually quite kind and morally-bound. He takes responsibility onto himself, and though seems merciless, John is actually quite the opposite.

District Four:

_Ariel Winters:_ Ariel is very perfection seeking, and will move mountains to be absolutely perfect in everyone's eyes. She is very competitive, and doesn't care much for others. If they get in her way on her road to perfection, Ariel isn't afraid to take them out.

_Wickett "Wick" Bering: _Though seems very calm and quiet, when Wick _does_ speak, he will be completely honest, and say what is exactly on his mind. Despite this, Wick is also a very kind guy who is able to laugh very easily.

District Five:

_Taylor Lai:_ Dark and gloomy Taylor doesn't really believe in life anymore. She keeps her head down and feels quite depressed most of the time, and isn't afraid to share her thoughts about it.

_Midas Hale: _Though lacks confidence and is constantly putting others above him due to his clumsiness, he is a loyal and true friend. But that doesn't mean Midas is weak.

District Six:

_Anezka Blythe:_ Anezka often romanticizes everything she possibly can. She believes in herself to no end. She even moved into the District believing that a complete stranger would return the young girl's love.

_Arian Moubrai: _May remind people of a sloth, constantly bored and unmotivated, but can be quite reckless sometimes, since nothing goes without reason.

District Seven:

_Caira Devonett: _Caira is brutally, brutally honest. Even if it gets her into trouble, Caira doesn't care. She's quite comfortable most of the time, and doesn't care what people think of her.

_Calisto "Cal" Cross: _Cal is not your typical District Seven boy. He is spoiled, being the mayors son. He is constantly building himself up, and building others down. In a result, Cal has no friends.

District Eight:

_Callista Kotonis: _Callista is quite shy, not really liking being the center of attention. She is a wallflower, very sensitive, and kind of a pushover, but quite kind.

_Jak Greyson: _Jak is very shy and closed off. Doesn't really let people get close to him out of fear of what he saw as a child.

District Nine:

_Tamarin Brae:_ Tamarin is extremely stubborn, most likely due to having a very protective family. She is sarcastic and somewhat of a perfectionist, but still quite kind, and will try to protect.

_Edric Annula: _Edric is extremely cheeky and goofy, always one for a joke and likes to make others laugh. But he hides a very protective, serious side that is only seen at home.

District Ten:

_Tally Tate's:_ Tally is a very cheery, very insane girl. Having done something terrible as a child, and knows she is insane, Tally is feared throughout the District.

_Dempsey Aldis: _Dempsey often observes what is going on rather than getting involved. He is quiet, but not shy. He is far from oblivious, and knows exactly what is going on most of the time. Very smart and collected.

District Eleven:

_Olivia O'Brian: _Olivia is a major jock. She is a girl of action and loves being outside. She wrestles and is more fit than most of the girl's in her District.

_Ashlar "Ash" Dawn: _Ashlar is dark, cold and sarcastic. He is quiet and gives off a gloomy vibe, though hides a quite insecure side underneath.

District Twelve:

_Kassandra Hope: _Being the butchers daughter, she has always had enough money. Because of this, despite talking to her, everyone seems to judge Kassandra as a spoiled brat.

_Jorjin Howels: _Jorjin is clever, though being fourteen, he is extremely awkward. It's very hard for Jorjin to find someone he _doesn't_ like. He can empathize with practically anyone, and is surprised not many other people do, too.

* * *

Chell had a big smile on her face, standing on the balcony. Today was the day. She was finally announcing the Hunger Games!

"Welcome, Capital!" The girl said, practically fluttering around her balcony. It looked like she was skipping, though she was hopping just in excitement, though seemed to keep a very decent amount of grace in her movements. Once the Capital stopped cheering, Chell regained her stance and put on a calm face. "As we all know, the Reapings start tomorrow Morning in the lovely District One! I've visited there myself, of course. And today is the very first day of this years Hunger Games!" The crowd cheered louder. Chell's smile was still on her face.

This was going to be an excellent year. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Chell felt shivers going down her spine and she began to squirm. She turned her head, noticing the President. He wasn't supposed to be here...he had his own Speech to do! Chell felt uncomfortable.

"M-Mr. President!" Chell said, stuttering slightly. "What an _excellent_ surprise!"

"And what a year it will be," The President said. He repelled Chell just as much now as he did when they had that meeting. "This young lady here has quite a shocking Arena. Lets give her a round of applause!"

He kept his eyes on her, his hand now rubbing her shoulder. Chell wanted to run away, move so that he couldn't be touching her, but the look on his face told her '_I dare you. If you move even an inch away from me, I will push you off of this balcony._' She felt as though she were about to burst into tears, but she didn't move. If she wanted to still be a Head Game Maker next year, she would have to put of with the President, no matter how...gross he was.

Chell turned back to the Audience, and put on a fake smile as they cheered even more, and begin to say her speech. Though it was squeaky now. Once it was over, and the crowd finished cheering, the President pulled on Chell's shoulder.

"Walk with me, my dear," He whispered. Chell gave one last smile at the Capital. Though, she had been extremely uncomfortable ever since he had entered the balcony. All the joy Chell may have felt when she first entered had vanished.

"Happy Hunger Games," She said, meekly. She took in a deep breath, and followed the President away, not sure what to do.

* * *

**AN. Sorry for that. I had to make it a legal chapter. And I am so, so sorry about how gross the President is. I am actually shocked by him. Anyway, hopefully you ignored that. Now, questions:**

**Thoughts on each Tribute:**

**Top Five Favorites:**

**Anyway, that's it for now! WELCOME TO MY NEW SYOT!**


	4. District One Reaping

_**District One**_

Brienne and Breden Tarquin sit at their table in the dining room, barely looking up at each other. Neither of them give the other even a glance, though, this is normal with the pair. Pair? Well, that isn't exactly a word one would use to describe the Tarquin's. Their son, Jayce, is at the table as well, talking to his Grandparents. Both Brienne's and Breden's parents are here today, or, Breden's parents and Brienne's Mother. The whole family.

Or was it really a family? Well, it is the strangest family on the inside, though only Brienne knows how strange it really is.

"Mommy," Jayce speaks up. Brienne turns her head to look at her son, who is only two years old. Brienne loves her son with all her heart, while Breden cares for his son, doesn't exactly pay much attention to him. Well, Breden doesn't pay much attention to _anyone_. Why would he? Anyone, even his family, mean nothing to Breden. He is above everyone else.

"Yes?" Brienne says.

"Why isn't Uncle Jayce here today? Shouldn't our whole family be here?" Jayce asks. This makes Breden look up, raising an eyebrow. Jayce and him aren't exactly 'close.' Jayce was always Brienne's friend. He wasn't related in any way.

Which was odd, since little Jayce is the spitting image of Uncle Jayce, with his dark brown hair and blue eyes, also being quite tall for a two year old.

One thing is for sure. He looks absolutely _nothing_ like Breden. Wasn't that funny? Of course, Breden thought nothing of it. He didn't care enough to.

Though, it really would be an embarrassment to find out the truth about his unhealthy marriage. But Breden doesn't even realize his marriage is unhealthy. The only person who does is Brienne, Uncle Jayce, and her friend, Royal. Even their parents can't see it, and Brienne doesn't mind. She doesn't want it to seem like she isn't perfect, even if Brienne can see it every single day.

"He can't be here, today. He may be here another time. He has his own family today," Brienne says. Breden would also not let him inside. Breden is fine with competition, but the boy makes him uneasy. His kindness, his looks, everything about him...all the things that make Brienne love him.

Of course Brienne is going to see him today. Brienne sees him everyday. Which Breden doesn't know about. He's never known about it.

They eat in silence for awhile. It's only hours until the Reaping. This is one of the only days the couple isn't Training. Often, their days are full at the Academy, while one of their parents watch Jayce, or even sometimes the older Jayce.

While Breden gets into fights, and enjoys them more than anything, Brienne is seeing Jayce, spending time with the people she actually considers her family. While Breden draws, Brienne flirts with the people around the District. While Breden reacts to being hit as being kissed, Brienne gets whatever she wants from her parents. While Breden likes pain, Brienne gets what she wants. But right now, it's peaceful for Breden, and Brienne is sitting at the table with _these_ people.

Neither of them have what they want, and it makes both of them angry. Neither even like each other. Though, neither of them are willing to show that to their parents, and they probably never will.

"So Mother, it will be alright if you watch Jayce for me?" Brienne asks, finishing her lunch. Her Mother nods her head.

"Of course! I love watching him," She answers.

"Thank you," Brienne says. Brie stands up, puts her plate into the sink, pulls on her shoes and leaves the house. She walks down several allies, turning a few times to make sure that she isn't being watched, and continues. It's a bit of a walk to Jayce's house, but Brienne doesn't care. She just wants to see Jayce.

She knocks on his door when she reaches the mansion. It takes a minute, but after awhile Jayce opens the door. They smile at each other before Jayce kisses the other passionately.

* * *

Breden has a black eye, which he is desperately trying to cover up with makeup. He doesn't want to give anyone the impression that he's not well dressed and looking alright, even if he doesn't care what others think. He'd hit anyone who thought so, and oh how he'd enjoy it if they hit him back.

He has to leave soon, which makes him upset. He is hardly finished trying to make himself look alright, but it's the Reaping. He has to go.

He was picked by the Academy to Volunteer, especially since this is his last year able to. He's turning nineteen next year, and this is the last chance he has. Ever since the Games started when he was Thirteen, he's always liked the idea.

He reaches the Justice Building in a short amount of time. He thinks nothing of how Brienne is now wearing completely different clothes even though she never returned to the house. It doesn't even cross his mind. He doesn't care. It's always like that. If he did think about it, he would assume that she was at Royal's. That's what she tells him, anyway. And why wouldn't he believe her? She's his wife. She wouldn't hurt him.

Breden waits in line. He watches the Escort, Alice Coriander, walk on stage. She has been the Escort for all five years. She was a familiar face, but it wasn't comforting. Breden finds her annoying, along with all the other Escorts. She recites her speech, a whole five minutes long, which makes Breden annoyed, when she finally finishes, going to the Reaping Bowl.

Suddenly, he hears a voice call:

"I Volunteer!"

Breden looks just out of curiosity. His eyes widen when he sees that it is Brienne. People had only been Volunteering since last years Games, and it was still rare, but seeing Brienne Volunteer actually shocks him.

"A Volunteer!" Alice says. "Well, come on stage, dear! What's your name?"

Brienne walks on stage, and says her name into the mic. It makes Breden mad. Before Alice even has the chance to walk to the Boy's reaping bowl, Breden shouts,

"I Volunteer, as well!"

The look on Brienne's face can pierce skin. She is furious. Breden walks on stage, after her. He can tell, this isn't what she wants. He doesn't care, though. She _always_ gets what she wants. It's time for that to stop.

"And your name?"

"Breden Tarquin," Breden spits.

"May I pronounce to you, District One's Tribute for the Fifth Hunger Games, Breden and Brienne Tarquin!"

* * *

**AN. Thank you Kitty and Cloe (LokiThisIsMadness and menagerie of insanity) for Brienne and Breden! Anyway, questions! (Btw questions are totally optional but appreciated)**

**Thoughts on Tributes:**

**Favorite Quote:**

**Anyway, I should have a Reaping up every day or every other day, but if I can't keep up with the schedule do keep in mind that I am still finishing up Sunlight is a Comin' In and I have stuff to do at home, things to read, etc. Anyway, please review!**

**Coffee.**


	5. District Two Reaping

_**District Two**_

The District is loud today. It's the loudest day of the year, the sound rumbling through the streets. No one is bothered, aside from the people who aren't making the noise. There are two examples here. Two, who are more alike than anyone would know.

Lachlan Cleve sits at home, quietly eating his breakfast. His family is loud, and if he were outside with the people he would consider his friends, maybe he would be loud, too, but right now, Lachlan doesn't feel like it. It's the only time Lachlan can be quiet, when he sits in his house. The only time Lachlan is allowed to show how he really feels. Which is sad, and depressed. Something no one would see when looking at him, which is the way Lachlan prefers it.

His sister, Isabelle, enters the room. Isabelle is his older sister, just one year above the Reaping age. Lachlan is still fifteen. There is a big age different between Isabelle and Lachlan, but that didn't mean that they weren't very close. Isabelle was four when he was born, and instead of ignoring him and being jealous of him like some older siblings, Isabelle loved and cared for him since a young age.

Isabelle is one of the only people who he's close to, aside from his girlfriend, Taylor. They are the only people Lachlan can talk to.

"You know, if you keep up this act, you'll be living more or less a half life," Isabelle says, biting into an apple. Lachlan doesn't look up, poking his toast with his fork.

"What else am I supposed to do?" Lachlan whispers. "If they see how I actually feel, they'll just bully me more."

Lachlan is what Isabelle calls the Master of Disguise. What everyone sees is a pleasant, kind, funny jock. Someone who doesn't take anything seriously, always positive all the time. Someone always good for a joke. But Taylor and Isabelle know that that isn't exactly true.

"Not if I have anything to say for it," Isabelle laughs. But that isn't really helpful to Lachlan. Isabelle always says that, but whenever Lachlan is bullied, she never does anything. She hardly ever tries to stop it. It hurts Lachlan, but that's something Isabelle can't see.

But it is someone Taylor can see, which is why he loves her so much.

* * *

On the other side of town, lives Danea Hallas. An even bigger Master of Disguise.

Danea is walking to work.

"Morning, Danea!" Someone calls. Danea doesn't recognize this girl, but waves back, stopping, putting a very large smile on her face.

"Hey!" Danea calls. "It's been so long!"

The girl laughs. "Funny. How're you doing?"

"Wonderfully!" Danea says, looking rather chipper.

"How's your family? Haven't seen them in awhile?"

"Oh you know, the usual. Busy as ever. But they're doing alright! Mom and I are actually heading to an orchard this afternoon!" Danea says. "Now, I have to get to work."

"A Hallas daughter working?" The girl laughs.

"Who'd have thought it? Now, catch you later!" Danea says, laughing as well. "Nice to catch up!"

That always happens with Danea. She meets people she can't even remember, and talks to them. But that is how she talks to everyone. She is bright, happy, and makes everyone around her happy. Danea is a bright, beautiful, shining star.

But also a pathological liar. She hasn't seen her family in four years. She has absolutely no idea how they are, and she definitely isn't seeing her Mother this afternoon. Reason number one, Danea would never have the time. Reason number two, her Mother would never want to see Danea again, and Danea wasn't very fond of her either.

Danea is crooked. No one even knows what has happened with Danea, why she is a pathological liar, or why she has post-traumatic stress disorder. Though, no one knows that Danea has these problems, either. She is a fantastic actress.

As Danea walks to work, she sees something that makes her panic. She sees a little boy and his Mother walking to school. Danea stops, staring at the two for several minutes, watching the four year old boy skip along. Danea couldn't breath, even if she saw this every morning. The woman turns, looking at Danea. The school isn't far from here.

"Devon, run along. I'll pick you up after school, alright?" The woman asks.

"Yes, Mommy," The little boy says, running up to his school. The woman walks up to Danea.

"You were four dollars short the pay this week," The woman said, crossing her arms. Danea had spent her four dollars on a loaf of bread for her and her fiancée, not thinking when she handed the woman sixteen dollars earlier that week, instead of twenty. Danea sighs.

"I didn't have it at the time, but I gave it to your husband," Danea lies.

"That better be what happened," The woman says. "Because if I don't have those four extra dollars by tonight, Devon will be out of the streets. Don't you remember our agreement?"

For four years, this woman and this man had been watching over Danea's child. Danea was far too young to watch him, being fourteen. Every day since than she had been trying to raise the money to win him back, but she gave the woman and the man all of her pay, from where she works. She barely has enough money to feed her one year old, Bex.

"Don't worry, you have it," Danea says with a pleasant smile. She walks away, looking back once to see Devon enter his school.

Her whole life is an embarrassment. Being tricked when she was fourteen (it was a weird love story. Danea didn't want embarrassment, but when the boy kept pressuring her for weeks and weeks even though Danea kept telling him no, when it finally happened the boy broke up with her only a week later), than giving birth nine months later, her parents couldn't bare to be that embarrassed by their daughter who had _never_ disappointed them in the past. Danea was sent away, giving birth to the child at a cottage in the woods, living with a different man who offered to help her. Giving her son up, and working her whole life to get him back, giving these false parents money for taking care of _her_ son, Danea hates herself. But she needs to keep up the picture that she is still a beautiful, kind, sweet girl, who anyone could trust.

No one could trust her. Almost every word out of Danea's mouth is a lie. And even Danea is starting to believe them.

There is only one way Danea knows that she can win Devon back, but there is a one out of twenty four chance that it won't work.

* * *

Everyone is huddled at the Justice Building. District Two is enormous, one of the biggest Districts. The biggest is possibly either District Four or District Eleven, which are even more huddled.

The only place where there is space is the Justice Building stage. The Mayor (and the Mayor's Son) are on stage, along with a few Peace Keepers, The District Four Mentor, and the District Four escort. Balta Cortsez is the name of the Escort this year. She is a very prim, elegant woman. She is possibly the most graceful Escort in all of the Districts. Balta walks across the stage as though she was floating.

"Now, welcome to the Fifth Hunger Games," Balta says. Her voice is somewhat lower than people expect, but still quite feminine. She is definitely an Alto. "This is my third year here, and I feel honored to be the Escort for the first big Anniversary of the Hunger Games! Now, let me not bore you. Lets show you the video and pick out our lucky District Two boy and girl to have the honor of representing District Two in this years Hunger Games."

The video isn't very long, and for District Two it's a breeze to watch. Balta smiles, beginning to walk to the Girl's Reaping Bowl.

"I volunteer!" A girl shouts. Balta turns around, her dress twisting around as well. She elegantly walks back, looking for the girl in the Audience.

"A volunteer? Do come up, dear!" Balta says. A strawberry blonde girl walks onto stage, with a large smile on her face. "What's your name, darling?"

"Danea Hallas," Danea says, her voice quite chipper.

"Lovely to meet you, Danea!" Balta says.

Lachlan recognizes her. She's the enthusiastic girl. She's ridiculously kind, and Lachlan likes her. Or, she hasn't been rude to him. She always has kind things to say. He wonders why she is Volunteering. Sure, she's been Training for as long as Lachlan can remember, but she seems so happy. He has a reason to Volunteer. He wants to show everyone that he isn't so easy to pick on.

"I volunteer!" Lachlan calls. Balta's eyes widen a little.

"Another one? Well, do come up as well! What's your name?"

Lachlan makes his way to the stage. He is obviously a few years younger than Danea. "Lachlan Cleve."

"May I present to you District Two's Tributes," Balta says, one arm on Danea's shoulder and the other on Lachlan's. "Lachlan Cleve, and Danea Hallas!"

* * *

**AN. So, here is District Two! I can't believe it only took me an hour to write this. Anyway, thank you LokiThisIsMadness for Danea and EmJCon for Lachlan. Now, question Time!**

**Thoughts on Tributes:**

**Favorite Tribute So Far:**

**Favorite Quote:**

**Coffee. (And again, questions are OPTIONAL but APPRECIATED!)**


	6. District Three Reaping

District Three has never been as pleasant during the Reaping Day as the Districts that surround them. They're quiet, with more dread that can be felt, almost tearing at you, though is underlined highly. It's quiet, and you can feel the tension in the air. There aren't any weeping families, this District knows better.

District Three has never had a Victor in all five years of the Hunger Games. This District is often overlooked and not many people even remember it. The Tributes always die in the Bloodbath. It makes District Three uneasy. Always fearing the worst, two more children of their District dead with absolutely no hope that they will win, because they haven't before.

This District has more work than Academy Training. Instead of teaching their children to fight and prepare for the killing aspect of the Games, they teach them survival skills. Survival skills, during the Bloodbath at least, aren't always your greatest weapon. But they don't have the time, or the Training, to teach their children how to fight in the Hunger Games.

Which is what set apart these District Three Tributes from the last four years of District Three Tributes.

John Blackmore is someone not necessarily overlooked, but not necessarily universally liked in District Three. In fact, it's not common to find someone who actually enjoys John's company. There are only two who are good friends with John. Cameron and Lachlan. Most people think they're crazy for spending time with John.

"Would you get out of here?!" John yells at a small girl who was around his front porch. "Get out! I don't got time for you!" He always raises his voice. The little girl looks up at him with her huge blue eyes, and runs away crying. John crosses his arms, not caring in the slightest. It wasn't _his_ fault she was there. It wasn't _his_ fault he lost his temper at her. She was in _his_ front yard! It was her fault.

John walks back into his house, putting on a kettle, slumping down on his chair and hitting his fists into the table in anger. Why is it that he always acts this way? That he can't help but be angry and yell? If the little girl happened to come back, John would still be angry at her and try to chase her away. He always did, like he couldn't control it. He furiously chews his banana, turning it into mush, and throwing the peel across the table, in anger. He hates this. He hates being so angry all the time, but he can't help it. He can never kill a person, or hurt another. Yell he might, get angry and lose he anger for sure, but never kill. But no one would believe him if he said that. Everyone believes John is a bad person, maybe even a killer. His personality and attitude doesn't help his cause, though.

John stares out the window, wondering why he is so angry, and why he can't control it. He knows why no one likes him. Only his two friends are fond of him. But instead of moping around in self pity, John goes to get dressed. No use in being angry at the world when he can't change it by yelling at it. But it's quite likely he would try if he could.

* * *

Dakota Mathis lives in the more privileged side of the District, or, as privileged as you can be in Panem, which is good enough for Dakota, and still privileged compared to many other people in her District.

Today, Dakota spends time with her family. Naturally, her family are hard workers, well respected, but quite distant from each other. They aren't really an overly loving family, but not a cold family, either. Dakota doesn't think much of it, she's become quite accustomed to it. Not really realizing it, Dakota manages to have quite a good time with her family today.

Her oldest sibling is her sister, Gia. She is just about three years older than her, out of the Reaping Bowl.

"Good luck today, Dakota," Gia tells her, patting her younger sister's back. They don't have much interaction, Gia being busy quite often, and when they do, it's more civilized. This is a very social moment for the both of them. Dakota is closer to her two younger siblings, Awry and Kiko. But, even if they don't spend as much time together as all four would secretly wish, they were all bounded by heart. There was a bond struck between them that they only showed to the rest of the world on days like this. Dakota hugs her older sister.

"Thanks," Dakota says. "This shouldn't be too bad. I don't think I'll get Reaped."

"I hope so," Gia says.

Dakota is calm, and collected, but fiercely loyal. Loyal to many things; to her family and the people that she loves, to her ideas and plans, and mostly to who she is, who she thinks she is, and who she wants to be. Dakota will fight for who she is and will remain loyal for as long as she can, and will never let herself slip. Though, she isn't always serious. Mostly in the Company of friends, Dakota is actually quite playful and fun to be around.

Dakota and Kiko are the only two in the Reaping Bowl currently, but Awry is catching up. Next year will be his first year. Though Dakota doesn't say it, that worries her. Dakota and Kiko begin to walk to the Justice Building.

"Chin up, Kiko," Dakota says, putting her hand on his back. "This'll be a breeze. When was the last time you were Reaped? Or any thirteen year old in District Three? Well, it wasn't yet, and it won't!"

Kiko was looking very worried until she said that.

"Thanks, Dakota..." He says, trying to cover up his worries.

* * *

The District is quiet at the Justice Building. Absolutely silent. The only thing anyone could hear was the wind and the clicking of their escorts heels. But the people were quiet, like a silent rebellion. District Three, the only sane District, the people of District Three called it. Apparently, they were the only District who didn't enjoy the whole concept.

Their Escort, Marigold Vitz, walks onstage with a very large, fake smile. It makes several people uncomfortable, and it would probably make Marigold uncomfortable, too, if she could see it.

"Welcome, District Three!" Marigold says into the mic. There was no applause, or whistles, or cheers. There was silence. The smile turned into a dull glare. Marigold read aloud her speech, than played the video. The crowd was still silent. Marigold hates this District. She hates that they gave her this one of all the Districts they could choose from. Why would they not give her one that actually at least gives her a little gratitude?

Marigold, instead of trying to get an applause out of them, straight away moves on to the Reaping Bowl, to the Females.

"Dakota Mathis!" Marigold says loudly. The camera finds it's way to a blonde girl, and before she knows it, her face is on the screen. Dakota takes in a deep breath, and quickly walks to the stage, putting up no fuss or anything. She goes quickly and quietly. She was trying to tear the attention away from her, Marigold observes. She walks to the Males Reaping Bowl.

"Eric Avior!"

A young boy gasps. He's twelve, and young. He's tearful, and scared. He's shaking, terrified. All eyes are on him. The camera is now pointed at him. The little boy begins to cry.

"I volunteer!" Yells a voice. The camera is suddenly on a different boy, looking panicked and alarmed and defensive.

John would never forgive himself if he would let a little boy go into the Hunger Games when he could have done something about it, so John does something about it. A small, real smile appears on Marigold's face, as John walks to the stage. Everyone is staring at him. Everyone assumes that John just volunteered to get the glory all to himself.

"What's your name, dear?" Marigold asks.

"John Blackmore," John says.

Marigold grins. "I pronounce to you, District Three's Tributes for the Fifth Hunger Games, John Blackmore and Dakota Mathis!"

* * *

**AN. And so, there is another District. I am SOOO sorry that this took so long! I wasn't expecting it to, but I have been seriously busy! My updates won't be as quick as I thought they would. But I won't leave you hanging for _too_ long. Now, questions time!**

**Thoughts on Tributes:**

**Top Three:**

**Favorite Quote:**


	7. District Four Reaping

District Four, always seen as the vision of loveliness to the other Districts. The high-tech, up to date, glamorous District was almost always the most popular. Well of beautiful streets, beautiful houses, beautiful jobs, and most of all, beautiful people. Especially in the Hunger Games, this District is always popular. Always the District who wins, always has the most popular Tributes.

A District of perfection, some may even say. But only people from District Four know that this isn't quite true. Every place holds their secrets.

* * *

Wickett Bering sits outside his house, already dressed and ready to go to the Reaping. His Uncle and his Father are home for the first time in about two weeks. The eighteen year old doesn't mind being alone with his siblings anymore, since it has happened various times over the years.

Wick is mostly outside to get some air before the Reaping. He didn't say anything going outside, but will soon be in again. Right now, he's leaving it up to his Father and Uncle to take care of the kids, knowing that they'll be fine for a few minutes without his help. Now, Wick watches people go by, which brings a smirk to his face when seeing people pass who he has seen many times before.

There is the woman from the market, who sells trinkets to everyone, though never has enough food of her own. Not many people buy her trinkets. Maybe Wick would someday, when he gathered up the money and he had some time off.

Wick likes to watch people instead of talk to them. Wick finds most of the children in this District obnoxious. He doesn't really talk about it, or anything really, but when someone talks to Wick, he isn't afraid to say exactly what he thinks. These people annoy Wick. They are all Careers, striving for perfection and likability in a time where it is almost impossible. Why is _that_ what they care about? It often brings an eye roll from Wick. Do they not have more important things to worry about? Perfection doesn't matter to Wick. Nor does likability. He is keeping his family afloat.

He likes people watching though, because he likes the mystery of the people. Most of the people all seem the exact same, there is the uncommon person to pass who doesn't care about what others think of them. This is the kind of people Wick likes to see, and people he'd get along with. But he probably won't go talk to them. Not because of shyness, since Wick isn't shy at all. He's just quiet most of the time. He has other things to do, and keeps his people watching to only watching, not much interacting.

But his watching would have to be cut short. This is his little brother's first Reaping. Wick has to be there for him.

Luhr Bering sits as the edge of the stairs. He tapes the banister seven times with one finger, and seven times with another, over and over again till all the fingers have done that. Then he moves onto his other hand. If he loses count, he'll have to start all over.

Before he even gets to his middle finger on his right hand, Wick walks up the stairs to where Luhr is. Luhr isn't dressed yet for the Reaping. He had probably just gotten up for breakfast. His little habits were even worse today. They always got worse on days of pressure. Since this is Luhr's first Reaping. It was definitely more of a day of fear. Maybe Wick should not have gone outside. It was before Luhr had even woken up, but Wick should have realized how hard this would be for Luhr.

"You aren't dressed yet," Wick observes.

"Sorry..." Luhr says, quietly.

"It's alright," Wick says. "We just need to make sure you get dressed. You can't go to the Reaping in your pajamas."

"Okay," Luhr says, with a sigh. "Just let me finish counting...I only have three sevens left."

Wick nods his head. There is no use trying to stop him. It just raises the young boys anxiety, and creates even more ticks.

Luckily, Luhr is his only Sibling in the Reaping Bowl. But, it is still unfortunate. He hates that Luhr is now experiencing what he has to. But it is Wick's last year where it is possible to be Reaped, but only Luhr's first.

The twins, Kai and Kaia, won't be in the Reaping Bowl for another six years.

Wick loves his family. Though he is a very sarcastic, honest boy, he loves his family more than anything and will protect them. Ever since his Mother's death, which Wick hates to talk about, he has been taking care of his three younger siblings at the times where his father and uncle were away. He has worked hard for his family. But his father and uncle have worked hard, too. There is no denying that. They work to support his family. Everyone does.

The Bering family became quiet ever since the death of their family member. Muriell Bering was the loud, happy and wonderful family member who made everyone else happy. She was tough, and held the family together like no one else could. But ever since her death, there has been a certain sadness, anxiety even, falling over the family.

But Wick doesn't let that keep him down. He may have to take her place, but he doesn't care. His love of his family is strong, even if he is a little rough around the edges.

When Luhr is done counting his sevens, he walks back to his room to change. Wick goes to check on the twins. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Ariel Winter sits on her desk, polishing her Cutlass Sword. The beautiful, talented girl's Cutlass already looks spotless, like most things that Ariel owns. Though, that is because she works for it. Ariel isn't lazy.

The quiet, calmer Career was perfect. She was beautiful, talented, graceful, strong...but that didn't all just come from nothing. Ariel has worked for it her whole life, though yes, did have the ground to do it on. She worked hard, without complaining. Why wouldn't she? In the way she grew up, Ariel had to be perfect. Perfect in everyone's eyes.

Ariel hops off of the desk, placing her Cutlass on it's shelf. She puts her dark curly hair up into a very well done bun, a few curls lining her face. She applies makeup on her face, that make her dark skin practically glow. She puts on a lacy blue dress, that was beautiful on her body. Ariel was lovely.

Ariel is a hard worker. She trains, she works, she learns...she balances everything, well still trying to be perfect, or as perfect as she can.

Not that Ariel cares what anyone thinks. Not many people interest her. When they do, Ariel is very competitive. _She_ is the best. Or, she wants to prove it. Luckily, she doesn't just gloat. Ariel can prove it.

"Ariel!" Her Father calls from downstairs. Ariel's eyes widen slightly. "Where is that girl?" His voice is more a shriek than anything. Ariel looks down at her watch. She was supposed to be downstairs four minutes ago. She had forgotten.

Ariel quickly, but gracefully, walks out of her room and walks down the stairs. She keeps her chin up, her stance well, hands behind her back. Her family is highly respected, and they don't want bad things said about their family. So of course Ariel must always be on time, and follow the rules. Though they did train her well. The girl is stoic and respected. She can swim a mile in a minute, speak four different languages, and many other things. Who can blame her for striving for perfection? Being daughter of some of the District's representatives, it took a toll on you.

Ariel kept a calm smile on her face, waiting for approval from her Father. Or, scolding about not being on time. It was hard to tell with her Father. His expression was usually vacant when speaking with his daughter.

He stares at her for a moment. "You may go."

Ariel is bored already, dully nodding her head and heading outside. Her Reaping would be exciting. This year would be different. Ariel was going to get out of her living hell.

* * *

Padma Nike stands on stage. Behind her stands the Mayor of District Four and his son, the two representatives, and the Mentor, Kathless Zaxton. Kathless makes people uneasy. She is deadly, but with a seriously perky attitude. She killed half the Tributes by trying to look cute, then stabbed them in the back, quite literally. No one had expected Kathless Zaxton to win, but she immediately started a train of Careers is the District. Today, Kathless's dark brown hair is curled with a pink bow on top, wearing a frilly white dress. Her skin is quite pale, and her lips bright red. She is often referred to as Snow White the Huntsman. She smiles at the crowd, making half of them either take a step back or shiver.

Padma Nike on the other hand is quite mellow and collected. She isn't very perky, making herself different from most of the Capital Citizens. Her outfit is toned down, her hair dyed pink instead of wearing a flamboyant wig. Though, no one would expect her very high pitched voice, which is half the reason they chose Padma as the Escort.

"Welcome, District Four, to the fifth Annual Hunger Games," Padma says, calmly. An applause erupts from the audience. A shy smile appears on Padma's face. It is her first year as an Escort. Padma is only in her early twenties, quite young for an Escort. She recites her speech, quick and easy to listen to, and plays the video. She puts her hands behind her back, rolling on the bottom of her feet. When it is over, she walks back to the mic. "Now, for our lucky Female."

Padma walks over to the Reaping Bowl, picking out a name.

"Enigma Bl-"

"I Volunteer!" Says a sweet, pretty voice. Suddenly, the camera is on a dark skinned girl with curly black hair. She is pretty, though looks extremely bored with this. The girl rolls her eyes, making her way onto stage. Padma shakes her hand once she reaches the stairs.

"Lovely!" Padma says, quietly. "And your name is?"

"Ariel Winters," The girl answers, with a sneer.

Padma nods, and returns to the Male Reaping Bowl.

"Wickett Bering!"

The crowd is silent. No one speaks up. The boy stands in shock, having to meet another's eyes, who was holding a child on his hip. The man is trembling, the young girl he holds confused.

"Wickett Bering?" Padma repeats.

The boy seems to take the hint, and begins to walk towards the stage, Peace Keepers at his side. When he reaches the stage, his eyes scan over the audience. Padma notices him looking at the twelve year old boys section. She wonders why, though he most likely has a relative there.

Padma broke the silence by patting him and Ariel on their shoulders.

"And here are our two lucky Tributes! Ariel Winters, and Wickett Bering!"

It doesn't seem very lucky.

* * *

**AN. So sorry for taking this long. I have been really busy and it's been hard to write this, especially since the idea for a different SYOT has been in my mind for a long time now. Anyway, here are our two awesome Tributes of District Four! I enjoyed writing this Reaping quite a lot. I find them both great Tributes, and good opposites. **

**Though, it seems many people are disappointed by some Tributes. I assure you, I have great things planned for them. None of them are boring, and they will be good in the Games. Just wait!**

**Anyway, question time!**

**Thoughts On Tributes?:**

**Top Three?:**

**Favorite Quote?:**

**Coffee.**


End file.
